CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Reed’s mouth clamped down on hers greedily. All the passion that had been held back stormed through them, sweeping aside the concepts of propriety and duty. There was no thought, no feeling, other than the desire that raged in them.
He lifted her into him, pressing her body against his. She could feel the fierce hunger in him, the heat that exploded in his body, surrounding her. He kissed her wildly as his hands roamed up and down her back, digging into her buttocks and moving her against the rigid length of his desire.
Her own hunger was like a ravening beast inside her, clawing to be free of the restraints she had put on it for so long. She wrapped her arms around Reed’s neck, clinging to him as her lips gave back to him, kiss for kiss.
Lost in a haze of desire, they made their way toward the bed, turning, sliding backward, never pulling apart long enough to walk the few feet. He fumbled at her buttons, and she slid her hands beneath his shirt, roaming with pleasure across his bare skin. The feel of his flesh beneath her fingers, the smoothness of skin and the faint roughness of hair, stoked the flames of her passion still higher.
Anna felt as if she could scarcely breathe, could not last another moment without touching him, kissing him, all over. She wanted him with a kind of desperation she had never experienced, a hunger that would not be denied. She wanted to know him, to have him inside her, to belong to him in the most elemental way.
“Love me,” she murmured, lightly dragging her nails down his bare back beneath his shirt.
Reed jerked at her touch and let out a groan. “I do, I do.” He kissed her deeply and whispered, “I will.”
He jerked at the last few buttons, popping off two of them, and shoved her dress down off her arms. In her haste, Anna had donned none of her petticoats, only her chemise and pantalets. Reed stopped, gazing down at her lithe body, clad only in these two simple cotton garments. Her breasts swelled above the top of her chemise, pale and round and succulent. A strand of her hair fell in front of her shoulders, curling and tangling down over her breast, and the sight of it sent hunger crashing through him.
Reed ached to take her immediately, to consume her all at once, and at the same time he wanted to take his time, to taste each and every delight of her flesh. He wanted to smother her with long, leisurely kisses, to roam over every inch of her smooth skin, to caress and arouse her to a quivering, begging hunger. And he wanted, too, to sink deep within her right now, to drive to his exploding satisfaction.
He reached down and took the strand of hair between his fingers, sliding down it, his knuckles brushing over the silken skin of her breast, and his skin trembled at the touch. He laid the tress back over her shoulder and bent to press his lips upon the soft, yielding top of her breast. He smelled the scent of her skin, the faint trace of perfume. His lips made their way across the tops of her breasts, kissing and teasing, his tongue circling designs over the quivering flesh.
Untying the bow between her breasts, he slipped loose the ribbon that laced up the chemise, and it sagged apart. He slipped his hands between the two sides and pushed back the fabric, exposing the full white orbs. Reed cupped her breasts, delighting in the contrast of her pearly skin with his tanned hands.
Her nipples tightened boldly under his gaze, and he grazed his thumbs across them, sending shivers through Anna and hardening the buds even more.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, and bent to kiss her breasts again.
He wrapped his arms under her hips, lifting her up so that he could feast more freely upon her breasts. His tongue traced around a nipple, teasing it into an even tauter state, lashing and circling and finally pulling the hard button of flesh into his mouth, suckling it.
Anna trembled beneath his ministrations, sparks of sensation shooting through her with every tug of his mouth. Her abdomen blossomed with heat, desire pooling between her legs. She groaned, her hands roaming restlessly over his shoulders and neck, and tangling in his hair.
She had never known anything like the feelings that flooded her now. An insistent ache grew between her legs, yearning for a completion that only Reed could give her. He had lifted her off her feet, and now she wrapped her legs around him, pressing herself wantonly against him.
A half groan, half laugh escaped Reed, and he murmured shakily, “You will unman me.”
He eased her feet back onto the floor and threw off the scrap of her chemise, still clinging to her arms, then unfastened the bow of her pantalets and ran his hands beneath them, pushing them over the curve of her buttocks and down her legs, until they fell in a pool at her feet.
Anna tugged at his shirt, pushing it back and off his shoulders. Then her hands went to his trousers, inexpertly seeking the buttons that fastened them.
“You should do this,” she said shakily. “I am all thumbs.”
“I enjoy more the way you do it,” he told her, smiling.
In response, she tossed him a saucy grin and slid her hand boldly into his trousers, and he groaned, biting back an oath. She started to withdraw, but he clamped his hand over hers.
“No, stay.”
Surprised at her own audacity, Anna did as he said, her hand searching out the hard male length of his desire and curling around him. Her other hand slid beneath the waistband of his trousers, and she pushed them down, gliding over his buttocks as his hand had moved on hers. He sucked in his breath, and the sound aroused her. She could feel the quiver of his flesh beneath her hands, and that aroused her even more.
Reed grasped her shoulders and kissed her, his mouth claiming hers, as she continued to caress him. His lips ground into hers, his tongue probing. He wrapped his arms around her, his skin searing hers, and they tumbled back onto the bed.
He kissed her again and again as his hand went between her legs, finding the tender flesh there, slick with the moisture of her desire. He caressed her, his fingers moving delicately, expertly, exploring and exciting her. Anna dug her fingertips into the soft flesh of his buttocks as the passion built in her to almost unbearable heights. She moaned his name, lost in her hunger, aching for him.
He parted her legs and slid between them, sinking into her slowly, gently opening her and filling her. Anna gasped, but it was wonder, not fear, that spread through her as he eased into her, and despite the brief, sharp slice of pain, her desire only increased, swelling and growing in her with each slow thrust.
Reed moved within her, and Anna wrapped her arms and legs around him, trembling with urgency. Something was building in her, strange and sweet and at the same time almost unbearable in its intensity. She clutched at his back, almost sobbing in her need for release. And now he was moving more quickly, thrusting into her hard and fast, and she was rushing, rushing….
Then the pleasure broke within her, startling her and flooding her with the most intense sensation she had ever known, sweeter and brighter and more explosive than anything she could have imagined. He cried out, jerking as his own shattering release reached him, and he collapsed against her.
They lay there for a long moment, spent and replete. He rolled from on top of her, wrapping his arms around her and taking her with him, so that she lay across his chest.
Dazed, Anna lay limply, listening to the hard, trip-hammer beat of his heart as it gradually slowed. She could not speak, could not even really think, only lie basking in the pleasure that permeated her body.
Then, much to her surprise, his hand began to move over her again, smoothing down her back and hips and thighs, stroking and caressing her, his fingertips lightly teasing over her skin. Amazed, she felt his maleness move against her.
“Again?” she asked, rolling onto her side and staring at him.
He grinned at her. “I have been waiting for this a long time.”
Reed pushed her gently onto her back and rose onto his elbow. “This time, I mean to take my time with you.”
And he did. He lay looking at her, his fingers drifting over her skin. He aroused her slowly, teasing and caressing with his fingers and mouth, stoking the fires of her passion bit by bit, until her whole body was once again alive and thrumming. Only then, when she was moaning, her hands reaching for him, urging him on, did he slide once more inside her. Slowly, he stroked in and out, building the desire in them both to the melting point, teasingly keeping them just out of reach of that supreme release, until their bodies were stretched taut, aching and almost at the breaking point.
Then he plunged deeply, hurtling them both over the edge into blissful oblivion.
* * *
Anna’s eyes drifted open, and she lay for a moment, aware of the soft, sated contentment that permeated her body. She felt warm and languid, and she was aware of her body in a way she never had been before. She closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy this last moment of unadulterated happiness.
Then, with a sigh, she sat up. Beside her, Reed opened his eyes at the movement and smiled at her. His face was unlined and content, his eyes filled with happiness.
Bleakly, Anna knew that she was about to ruin that happiness.
“I must go,” she said softly. She could not resist leaning over and kissing him.
Reed wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her for a longer, deeper kiss than she had planned. When he released her, she sat up, her eyes bright and her breathing a bit unsteady.
“Don’t go,” he murmured. “Stay. We are doubtless already a complete scandal to the staff. We may as well luxuriate in our wickedness. There is no avenue for us now save marriage, anyway, and that will cure all transgressions.”
“No, please, don’t joke about it,” Anna said, sliding off the bed and picking up her clothes.
She felt suddenly embarrassed at her nakedness, and she turned away, hastily pulling on her undergarments and dress.
“I’m not joking,” Reed said, his voice turning a trifle wary. He sat up, feeling at a disadvantage, and got up to don his own trousers. “I may have said it lightly, but I meant it just the same. I want to marry you.”
When Anna did not respond, he walked around to face her. She started to turn away, but he put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. “Anna. Look at me. Say something. I am asking you to marry me.”
“I cannot,” she said wretchedly. “You know it is impossible.”
“No, I don’t know that,” he responded tightly. “There is nothing impossible about it. We have only to do it. And I intend for us to do it very soon.”
“No!” Anna jerked away from his grasp. “Reed, please, don’t make it any more difficult.”
“I shall make it damned difficult,” he rasped. “You act as if I am hurting you. I am asking to marry you! I want to love you and care for you for the rest of our lives.”
“I want it, too!” Anna cried, facing him. Tears shone in her eyes. “But you know that we cannot.”
“We can! I don’t give a damn about your family and whatever madness may lie in them. I love you, and I want you, mad family and all. I don’t plan to spend the rest of my life the way I have the past three years, missing you, aching for you, all because of your stubborn pride.”
“It is not stubbornness, nor my pride. I am doing what is right, and you know it. You just want to pretend that the problem doesn’t exist, but it does.”
“You don’t understand. I know very well that it is there. I just don’t care. I refuse to let the fact that your uncle is insane ruin both our lives.”
“You cannot allow that into your family. Reed, think! Yours is one of the highest, oldest families in the land. You cannot let their blood be mingled with de Winter blood. You cannot subject future generations to that.”
“Then we won’t have children. Anna, listen to me.” He went to her, taking her hands between hers. “There are ways to avoid having children.”
“You cannot be certain,” Anna said.
“Dammit, if it takes never being able to experience again what we just did, then I will do that,” Reed told her roughly. “I want you as my wife.”
“We could not keep that from happening again, and you know it,” Anna retorted. “And, besides, you should have children. You will make a wonderful father. I know it. I have seen you with Con and Alex. You deserve to have children.”
“I would rather have you,” he replied bluntly.
“It isn’t even just the children,” Anna told him. “The madness comes upon us late in life. Although my uncle showed only slight signs when he was in his twenties, the madness grew worse and worse as he got older. It could still happen to me. I could go mad, and then you would be saddled with an insane wife. I can’t do that to you. I couldn’t bear for you to see me like that.”
“And I cannot bear to live without you,” Reed snapped. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life. And if you should go mad, then I will live with you mad.”
“That would only be a half life!” Anna argued.
“I would rather have a half life with you than years and years with some other woman. Bloody hell, Anna! I love you! And I am willing to take whatever comes.” His eyes flared with anger. “I think it is just that you are afraid. You don’t love me enough to marry me.”
“That’s not true!” she flashed back. “I love you more than anything. More than life itself. I love you to the very depths of my soul.” Tears clogged her throat, and she had to force out her last words, “And that is why I will not marry you.”
Anna turned and ran from the room.
“Anna, dammit!” Reed let out an oath and whirled, picking up the nearest object, a small lamp, and sending it crashing against the opposite wall. He stood for a moment, then turned and ran after her.
She was already running down the stairs, and Reed started after her, heedless of the startled gazes of his servants, many of whom seemed to have found some task that needed doing around the staircase. “Anna! Wait!”
Anna did not pause, but ran out the front door. By the time Reed reached the door, she was already mounted on her mare. She glanced back at him, and he saw her tear-streaked face. Then she dug her heels into her horse and was gone, leaving him staring after her.
* * *
By the time Anna got back to Holcomb Manor, the righteous anger that had sustained her at first had all drained away, leaving her feeling only an empty ache.
She knew that she had to stop seeing Reed. The situation was impossible. She had been living in a dream world, believing that somehow she could be with him and enjoy his company and not give in to her passions, but obviously that was not the case. Nor could she marry him. Despite what he had said, it would be wrong and cruel of her to tie him to a wife who might grow mad, a wife who could not give him children. He deserved so much more. Some other woman could give him that.
Anna tried to ignore the jealousy that gnawed at her when she thought of him marrying another, more proper, wife. She had to be reasonable, she told herself, and just because Reed was not adhering to reason, that was no excuse for her to abandon it. Indeed, she had to be reasonable for both of them.
When she reached her house, she ran up to her room and threw herself onto the bed to indulge in a good cry. Then she sat up and washed her face and rang for Penny to draw her a bath.
After a long soak in the tub, she got dressed and let Penny do up her hair, then went downstairs and started listlessly on her tasks. She found it difficult to concentrate, and the household problems she dealt with seemed inordinately petty.
She half expected Reed to come calling. He was not the sort of man to give up on something he wanted. She did not know how she could continue to refuse him when everything inside her yearned for exactly what he was offering. How could she be strong enough to deny them both the happiness they wanted?
She was in the midst of such gloomy thoughts late that afternoon, staring out the window at the garden, when she saw a figure moving through the trees toward the house. The day had turned as gray and dreary as her thoughts, and there was a fine mist in the air, obscuring the scene. Anna leaned closer to the window, peering out, her stomach tightening.
The man stopped at the edge of the garden, looking uncertainly toward the house. Anna’s eyes widened. It was Arthur Bradbury, her uncle’s manservant.
She walked quickly out of the room and down the hall to her brother’s study. “Kit. Arthur is here.”
“What?” He looked up from his work, his brow drawing together in confusion.
“Arthur Bradbury.”
“But what is he doing here?”
“I don’t know. But it must be important for him to leave…”
“Yes, of course. You’re right.”
Kit stood up. He had been working in his shirtsleeves, but now he picked up the light gray jacket from the arm of the chair across from his desk and shrugged into it as he followed Anna out of the room. “Where is he?”
“I saw him out among the trees at the edge of the garden. I think he must be waiting, hoping one of us will come out.”
Anna picked up her everyday bonnet from the coatrack by the back door and tied it on as they went outside and through the garden toward the trees beyond. As they drew closer, she could see Arthur’s large form beneath the trees. He was pacing anxiously, a frown on his face. His expression lightened when he saw Anna and Kit approaching him, and he swept off his cap as he stepped forward to greet them.
“Sir! Miss! I’m that glad to see you. I was just trying to think of a way to get your attention ’thout anyone seein’ me.”
“What is it?” Kit asked. “Is anything wrong with our uncle?”
Arthur shifted a little. “Fact is, sir, well, he’s missing, like.”
“Missing?” Anna asked, her voice rising in dismay.
“When I got up this morning, he weren’t anywhere to be found. It’s not like him to stray outside his ring of stones in the day, miss. I was a mite worried, and the longer I waited, the more worried I got. So after a while, I went out lookin’ for him. And I haven’t found him anywhere.” He looked from one of them to the other, as though hoping they would have an answer.
“Oh, Lord,” Kit sighed. “Has this ever happened before?”
Arthur shook his head. “No, sir. Not this long. He don’t like to be outside the ring when it’s light. I’m worried something might have happened to him. I can keep looking, but with just one person…” He shrugged.
“We will help you,” Anna said.
“I’ll get Rankin.” Kit named their gamekeeper, who carried supplies up to Arthur and their uncle. Only he, of all the servants, knew about their uncle’s presence in the woods. “I think you should return to your house, Arthur, in case Uncle Charles should go back there. He would be alarmed to find you gone.”
“Yes, sir, you’re right about that.”
Kit turned to his sister. “You should stay here.”
“Stay here?” Anna echoed, astonished. “I will not. You will need all the help you can get searching the woods.”
“It is not safe, not with everything that has been happening. And you can’t take one of the servants with you, since none of them know about Uncle Charles,” Kit reasoned. He hesitated, then added, “If you must go, come along with me. That will be safer.”
“That takes away the whole point of having an extra person to search,” Anna pointed out. “I will search one section alone, just as you and Rankin do.”
Frankly, she was not much inclined to strike out into the woods on her own, given the recent murders. But she could not simply stand by and do nothing while her uncle was missing.
“I shall be fine,” she assured her brother. “You need not worry about me. I know the woods as well or better than you, and there are few enough of us to search, as it is. Nothing will happen to me. It’s daylight, and the killer has not struck during the day. Besides, it isn’t me he has tried to harm, it is you. If anyone should stay home, it should be you.”
Kit snorted at the absurdity of that suggestion.
“Really, Kit, don’t make a fuss. Nothing is likely to happen, and if I do stumble upon someone suspicious, I shall scream, and you and Rankin can come to my rescue.”
“If we are close enough to hear you,” Kit pointed out. He sighed. “I am sure I should not allow you.”
“Allow me?” Anna’s eyes flashed dangerously.
“But I know you would pay no attention to me if I did forbid it,” he finished, long accustomed to dealing with his older sister. “So we may as well not fight about it.”
“I agree.”
Arthur, relieved to have passed on his burden, returned to the hut by Craydon Tor to await their uncle, and Anna and Kit went back into the house briefly, Kit to locate Rankin and enlist his help, and Anna to put on a sturdier pair of walking boots.
Soon they were making their way through the garden and across the fields behind the house into the woods beyond. The mist had thickened in the past few minutes, and Anna was glad for the bonnet that kept the moisture out of her face.
When they reached the edge of the woods, the three of them fanned out, heading off at different angles. Before long, Anna could no longer hear the sounds of either her brother or Rankin as they moved through the trees. It was, she admitted, a trifle eerie to be walking in the thick woods all alone. Even the slight noise of a squirrel scampering across a branch was enough to make her jump, and when a bird exploded out of the brush in front of her at her approach, she could not suppress a little shriek.
She clapped her hand over her mouth, hoping that her utterance had not been loud enough for either her brother or Rankin to hear. Scolding herself for being such a nervous ninny, she pressed on.
The mist was growing heavier now. In fact, she realized as drops hit the brim of her bonnet, the mist had evolved into rain. As she trudged on, the rain grew harder, and she wished that she had thought to throw on a light cloak over her dress. At least, she thought, her boots would hold up to the rain and mud.
Anna shivered and wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself for warmth. She slipped on the wet leaves and grabbed at a sapling for balance. It was then that fear slammed into her.
She gasped, her knees giving way, and if it had not been for her grasp on the small tree trunk, she would have fallen to the ground. She leaned against the tree, wrapping her arm around it to hold her up, dreading what she knew was coming.
She feared it was her uncle—some horrible vision was going to unroll before her eyes concerning her uncle. But when it came, it was far worse.
First was the insidious fear, pervasive, and so intense it made her ill. Then she saw Reed’s face, just as she had seen it in her dream the other night, pale, eyes closed, looking as if he were dead.
A moan escaped her, and Anna sank down to her knees, unable to stand. Not Reed, she prayed, please, not Reed.
But there was no mistaking his face or the blood trickling from his temple. His face was wet, the rain running down it, and she knew with a certainty that this was no forewarning as last night’s dream must have been. It was no false vision, as she had let herself believe. It was now. It was real.
And Reed was in terrible danger.